


Entropy Isn't What it Used to Be

by punk_rock_yuppie



Series: ColdAtom Week 2016 [3]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Blowjobs, ColdAtom Week 2016, College AU, Day Two - High School/College AU, Feelings, Implied Age Difference, M/M, Student!Len, professor!Ray
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-05 09:35:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6699658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray is the subatomic physics professor. Len is his student.</p><p>Len wants to get into Ray's pants.</p><p>Len always gets what he wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Entropy Isn't What it Used to Be

**Author's Note:**

> got inspired and decided to crank out a second (if belated) contribution to coldatomweek! not beta'd, enjoy!

**September**

Len has seduction down to a refined art. He knows how he looks, and what about him appeals to the masses; he knows how to ensnare people’s senses and leave them drooling for more. He knows exactly how to sit, lean, stand, _blink_ , even, to get the kind of attention he’s looking for.

So, yes, it’s an art form, truly.

And yet, despite Len’s numerous years of practice and long list of conquests to back up his claims of sexual prowess, he just can’t seem to get into his professor’s pants. And _god_ does he want to. He’s not typically one for such scandalous trysts—okay, that’s a bit of a lie, but still—and he’s never been much of a sucker for the whole Naughty Professor schtick…but something about subatomic physics professor Raymond Palmer just gets Len _going_.

Sure, Raymond Palmer is a bit of bleeding heart, a goody-two-shoes, saccharinely sweet know-it-all, and that’s normally all of Len’s biggest turn offs rolled into one. But, Raymond also looks as though he stepped straight out of the pages of a GQ spread and has a voice as smooth and sultry as sin. He’s a walking contradiction: beefy, muscular but not disgustingly so, devastatingly handsome to the point of ridiculousness, but also sweet and kind and always so understanding and eager to help.

It’s sickening, all in all. But it’s what Len wants.

And Len _always_ gets what he wants.

 

**December**

Len taps the end of his pencil against his slightly parted lips as he pays attention half-heartedly. He actually kind of enjoys the physics class; he’s far from stupid and the challenge of the class gets him pumped up. Not to mention Raymond’s clear devotion to the subject makes his teaching fairly worthwhile and engaging. Len likes watching Raymond teach, especially enjoys the way his tight brown-and-purple-plaid slacks cling to the curve of his ass. Len likes physics; he just likes Raymond a lot more.

So, Len taps his pencil against his lips lightly, quietly, drawing just enough attention to his lips that other students keep taking peeks, and Raymond sneaks in a few guilty glances as well. Every time Raymond’s eyes meet Len’s, then flick down to his flushed pink lips for a split second, then away and  back to the lesson—well, Len has been hard in his pants since class started.

Raymond looks at his lips precisely six more times before class ends, and Len just barely manages t will his hard on away within the last few minutes of class. He stands proudly with the rest of his classmates and shoots a wink in Raymond’s direction. Len holds his books and notes to his chest and takes a moment to pause, watch Raymond erase the whiteboard to start over for his next lesson.

“Did you need something, M-Mr. Snart?” Raymond asks without turning away from the board.

“Oh, no,” Len shrugs and takes a few slow steps toward the door, “just admiring the view is all.” He leaves without waiting for a response, but he strides down the hall with a smirk splitting his face.

 

**February**

“Feeling dangerous, Lenny?” Lisa asks from where she’s draped on the couch. She’s got her legs thrown over the back and arm of the couch and her heard is hanging off the cushions. Her long brown hair is spilling onto the carpet and her eyes are trained mostly on her phone, but occasionally glance at Len.

Len who has been changing outfits for the past hour, because if a certain shirt goes with the pants he wants to wear then it’s just typical that his shoes won’t match the shirt—and if the shirt and shoes _do_ match, they don’t go with the pants. It’s been a cyclical process but he thinks he’s finally got it figured out.

“Dangerous? Not particularly,” he fiddles with the open buttons of his soft purple shirt. It’s a lightweight button down that skirts his hips and hangs a little long on his frame; he’s got his collar smoothed out an three buttons undone to give a tease of his chest and the ink swirling over his skin. “Frisky? Definitely.”

Lisa groans. “Too much information, Lenny.” She finally sits up enough that Len can get a good look at her flushed face. Sitting upside down will do that. “Besides, when are you gonna give up on the professor? He’s clearly too ramrod to get with you, and you get cranky when you go too long between _dates_.” She makes air quotes around the word dates as a way to not directly talk about her brother’s sex life.

Len waves off her concern, though. “He’s my challenge, just like subatomic physics is a challenge and just like not punching all your boyfriends in the face is a challenge. I _like_ challenges.”

Lisa rolls her eyes and falls back onto the couch, a little more properly this time. Her head isn’t hanging over the edge but her legs are still akimbo.

“Whatever, Lenny,” she sighs, “just hurry up and get it out of your system. I’m sick of….” She gestures to all of Len, then to the pile of rejected clothes sitting in the corner, “ _this_.”

Len flips her the bird on his way out.

 

**May**

“Mr. Snart, I think I need to be the one to say this is horrible inappropriate.” Raymond’s voice is steady but Len can see the tremor of his hands. “I’m your professor, and I know I can be incredibly understanding and lenient at times but if you think I would be bribed by sex just to improve a grade, you’re sorely mistaken.” His words come out in a rush, but Len pays it no mind. He keeps stalking forward; admiring the way Raymond never turns away and still manages to walk backwards around the chairs and tables in the classroom.

“Am I?” Len drawls, just to fill the silence.

“Besides!” Raymond bursts out, “it isn’t as though you need your grade improved. You have the second highest grade in the class, you’re doing perfectly fine with the material so I don’t really see—?” Raymond’s rant comes to a halt with a squeak as his back collides with the whiteboard. He stares at Len, who stares right back.

“Do I have to spell it out for you, _professor_?” Len purrs. “I want _you_.” Without waiting for another rambling, crazed response he drops to his knees at Raymond’s feet. His hands latch immediately onto Raymond’s hips and he can feel the heat mingling between their bodies.

“Mr. Snart,” Raymond murmurs, fear and excitement dancing bright in his gaze.

“Call me Len, professor,” he commands as he brushes his nose against the zipper of Raymond’s slacks. Today they’re a strong steel gray with the softest, sky blue pinstripes that make Raymond’s legs look obscenely long and defined. He’s sex personified, if Len is being honest, and he’s the only person Len knows that can pull off slightly too-short slacks.

“Len,” Raymond obeys but his voice is strained. His hands twitch at his sides and start to drift toward Len’s head before snapping back against the wall. “We shouldn’t.”

“Oh, but professor, I must disagree. We very much _should_.” Len licks a wet stripe up the bulging front of Raymond’s pants then smirks up at his teacher. “It’s not illegal,” Let mutters as he works deft fingers to get the pants undone and sliding down Raymond’s thighs. “I’m of age, you’re of age…you won’t mess with my grade and I won’t expect anything in return for this,” he nudges at Raymond’s brief-clad erection to emphasize his words, “except maybe a few orgasms of my own.”

Len looks up with a grin and relishes the pink staining Raymond’s skin from his shirt collar to his hairline.

Slowly, Len inches the briefs down Raymond’s body too and takes in the sight before him. He takes in Raymond’s hairy thighs and neatly trimmed pubes that curl dark and still thick at the base of his cock. Len especially admires the flush of Raymond’s stiff prick bobbing in front of him, the beads of precome that are gathering at the slit.

Len spares a last glance at Raymond and when he doesn’t get any further protests, he leans forward to lap at the wet head of Raymond’s cock. He gets an immediate full body shudder in response and it fuels the fire burning in his gut. Len leans in and works Raymond’s dick into his mouth slowly, relaxing his throat as he goes to take in as much as possible. The feeling of Raymond’s hot, thick cock filling his mouth makes Len dizzy with pleasure.

His own prick has been swollen since he decided today was the day to make his move, and now he’s so rock hard it nearly hurts. The strain of his zipper against the engorged skin is wonderful friction and terribly teasing.

Len reaches a hand down and palms his own cock through his sleek jeans as he sucks Raymond’s dick faster, deeper, wetter. He lets the saliva gather in his mouth to slick the way and doesn’t feel bothered when a mix of spit and precome dribble down Len’s chin. He can feel it drip onto his shirt, knows it’ll likely stain, and doesn’t give a damn. He’s much more interested in getting his professor to come down his throat, then maybe fuck him on the desk, then maybe he can fuck Raymond back at the dorms… Oh the possibilities.

“G-god, Len,” Raymond’s hand finally grips the back of Len’s head and scrambles for purchase. Len’s hair is hardly an inch long, so there’s nothing to grip and tug, but the bite of Raymond’s nails into his skin is just as good. “S-shit, your mouth,” Raymond moans softly. “You sit there with your pens and suckers and _Jesus Christ_ , Len.” Raymond’s head falls back and thunks against the whiteboard loud and hard.

Len just smirks to himself and takes Raymond’s cock down to the base. His lips press against where cock meets groin and his nose is tickled by pubes in a way that makes his sky feel hypersensitive. He can feel the head of Raymond’s dick hitting the back of his throat as he swallows and moans around the girth. 

Raymond’s hips buck forward at the vibration and he shouts and comes down Len’s throat without warning. His grip on Len’s head tightens and pulls him closer though there’s hardly anywhere for Len to go. Len can’t help it when his eyes widen in surprise but he swallows reflexively anyway; the sudden bitter, salty taste coating his tongue is sharp and startling but nothing he isn’t already used to. So Len swallows, keeps swallowing until the taste is barely lingering in his mouth and until Raymond is pushing him away, cock too sensitive.

Len wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and look up at the disheveled mess he’s made of _Professor_ Raymond Palmer. Raymond’s chest is heaving for air and his whole body—or, what bare skin Len can see—is bright red and covered in a sheen of sweat.

Len smirks and stands. He takes the time to brush wrinkles out of his clothes as Raymond comes down from the high of his orgasm. Len only moves again when Raymond shifts like he’s going to pull his pants back on, and that just won’t do. Len steps forward until they’re toe to toe and grabs Raymond’s hands to stop him.

“Now, now, professor, I believe you owe me…” Len looks over his shoulder to Raymond’s desk tucked into the corner of the room, cluttered with paper and knick-knacks, then pointedly back at him.

“H-here?” Raymond splutters as his body starts to shake again. Despite the way his nerves suddenly resurface, Len can feel Raymond’s cock make a valiant twitch with interest.

“Yes, here,” Len agrees. “And my dorm room, maybe the library if you’re up for a real challenge.” Len smirks. He skirts his hands up Raymond’s chest, catch them on the pert nipples beneath the deep blue button-down, then grip the fabric tight. “I want you anyway I can.”

Raymond blinks owlishly. “I don’t need to change your grade?”

“No,” Len barely resists the urge to sigh or groan in irritation. He’s going to be patient, and polite, because manners will go a long way towards blowjobs.

“And you’re not—you’re not going to blackmail me, right? Or force me out of the school?”

Len glares curiously at Raymond.

“I just, I want to be sure.”

Len is so surprised by the sudden shift back to nervous rambling and tentative touching that he steps back when Raymond pushes at him, and doesn’t try to stop him from getting redressed.

“No,” Len drawls, “I’m not going to turn you in or blackmail you or anything ridiculous like that. I _want_ to have sex with you and I _want_ to keep taking this class—how would getting you run out of the school be conducive to either of those things?”

Raymond doesn’t have an answer for that but when he looks up from buttoning his pants, he’s grinning.

“Let me take you out to dinner.”

Len’s brain stops short and his heart skips a beat as he processes the request. “What.”

Raymond isn’t deterred by the flat, bored tone. “Let me take you out to dinner, first. I’m starving, I had to skip lunch today to tutor some of the students and I _really_ need something greasy and enormous.”

Len’s brain is moving so sluggishly he doesn’t even try to come up with a snarky innuendo.

“Then,” now Raymond is the one drawling, “after we eat and maybe have a few drinks, we could go back to my place…” His hand is shaking as it cups Len’s cheek but that same spark of delight still lingers in his eyes. “I have a _really_ nice bed.”

Len takes a brief second to assess the situation: sure, he’d fully expected to finally work his way into Raymond’s pants this evening, and he’d also definitely anticipated Raymond being into it…the one thing he hadn’t expected was _dinner._

Despite that, Len nods. “Okay. Dinner.”

Raymond holds out his hand expectantly and doesn’t move until his and Len’s fingers thread together. They walk together across the room and Raymond parts for a moment to gather his papers into his bag, to flick the lights off, then joins Len by the door again. He reaches out and holds it open with another dazzling smile shot Len’s way.

“Well, professor, you sure know how to treat a lad,” Len teases.

“Call me Ray,” he says as they step into the hallway together. “I mean—I don’t really mind the professor thing in, y’know, the bedroom but, really, you should call me Ray.”

Len raises an eyebrow but, again, nods. “Okay, _Ray_.” The name feels good on his lips; it feels softer than ‘professor’ or ‘Raymond’ or ‘Palmer’, it feels more genuine and real. Professor is, for Len, forever associated with sex and attraction. Raymond is as outdated a name as _Leonard_ , and Palmer—well, innuendos and informality feel abundant.

But Ray, _Ray_ feels right.

Len smiles to himself as they walk outside. There’s an undeniable bounce in his step driven by pride and it gets him a laugh from Ray every couple steps. Pleasure is still burning at the back of his mind, but it’s less fervent and more relaxed. He feels pleased with himself and smug, but also undeniably giddy in the most ridiculous way.

There’s always been something about Ray Palmer.  There’s always been this air about him, the glow to his every expression that had Len’s stomach turning in knots. Always good knots, of course, nice ones, warm ones, ones that maybe scared Len a bit. There had been sex appeal, of course, because Ray is nothing if not sexy, but there had also been that ache for _more_ seated deep inside Len.

It felt safe, now, to admit to himself he’s had a crush on Ray since the school year began. No chance of rejection, no chance of humiliation, and even if the thought of cracking himself open to someone very nearly a stranger terrifies him—he knows it’ll be worth it. He wants it to be worth it.

And Len always gets what he wants.


End file.
